A Stolen Past

"I smell a rat."

The evening of May 29th began just like any other. Harry choked down his supper in the dining hall and then headed to his room to rush through his homework, do his nightly exercises, and talk with Hassseth. In the middle of an explanation of how difficult it is for an adder to produce its venom, Hassseth suddenly stopped speaking and stared intently at a large crack in the wall, her tongue flicking in and out of her mouth at a dizzying rate.

"Wha-?" Harry's question was cut off by a sharp hiss from the snake.

"I smell a rat," Hassseth whispered.

"Of course you smell a rat," Harry whispered back. "You smell lots of rats; this place is full of them."

The serpent slowly shook her head. "This time I mean it in the human way, as well as my own. Rumor has it that there is a strange rat about - less trustworthy than most rats. Evil, even. They say that his right front paw is silver, and that he searches for the boy called Harry Potter. Be alert. No good can come of this."

Harry laughed nervously. "But it's just a rat. What can it do, unless it's carrying the plague and plans to infect me?"

"Do not underestimate the rat, Harry," Hassseth cautioned. "He may be more deadly than you realize." After a short pause, she added, "Wait here," and slithered into a nearby crack in the wall.

Five minutes went by, during which Harry sat in tense silence. In spite of his insistence that no rat could harm him, he couldn't help being put on edge by Hassseth's warning.

Suddenly, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and shifted his position on the floor to be able to see it better. The pointed nose of a rat was protruding from the large crack in the wall that Hassseth had been staring at only a few minutes ago. Cautiously, never ceasing to sniff the air, the rat emerged from the crack. As it stepped forward, Harry's breath caught in his throat; the rat's right front paw was a metallic silver color, almost as if it had been dipped into a bath of molten silver and hadn't yet had a chance to dry.

As the rat crept closer, Harry's body tensed and his heart began to pound. Suddenly, quick as lightning, Hassseth shot from her hiding place hissing a battle cry, and sank her long, white fangs into the center of the creature's back. Harry watched in morbid fascination as the rat, squealing in pain, began to swell - slowly at first, and then more rapidly. Initially, the swelling only caused Hassseth's jaw to unhinge, but it was soon necessary for her to release her hold, although she kept her fangs buried in the rat's flesh. Harry gasped and scrambled backward as, before his eyes, the rat transformed into a short, balding man in a dark gray robe, who bore a remarkable resemblance to the rat he had been only seconds before. The rat's squeals of pain changed to a scream.

Harry watched, frozen in horror, as the man reached back and closed his silver hand around Hassseth's diamond-shaped head, crushing it with the force of his grip.

"No!" Harry shouted, finally springing to his feet, but he knew it was too late - the rat-man was already yanking the small serpent's fangs from his lower back and flinging her lifeless body against the wall. Harry winced as his friend hit the floor in a twisted heap.

"Now, Harry, you will come with me," the little man said in a somewhat squeaky voice. "My master is looking forward to seeing you again." As he spoke, he drew a thin, polished stick from an inside pocket of his robe. Harry recognized it at once as a magic wand and, for the first time he could remember, he felt that he was at a disadvantage for not having one as well.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Harry growled. His initial wariness at the sight of the wand was quickly giving way to rage. This little man had killed Hassseth, and he was going to pay. "You're going to die here and now," Harry spat. He stood with his feet apart and his knees slightly bent, waiting for the short wizard to make the first move.